


can't stand losing

by aleksrothis



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016-2017 NHL Season, M/M, References to Past Dubious Consent, Winner's Room (Hockey RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25490626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: Another loss.Eight losses in a row now. A new record of the worst kind and it was only January.It was hard for Gabe to motivate himself to get changed and showered, not when he knew he was going to have to do it again after a couple of hours in the winners’ room.
Relationships: Gabriel Landeskog/Ryan Getzlaf
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	can't stand losing

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a sinbin prompt about the 2019-20 Red Wings but I had this image of a sad Gabe during the Avs no-good terrible very bad year.

Another loss. 

Eight losses in a row now. A new record of the worst kind and it was only January. 

It was hard for Gabe to motivate himself to get changed and showered, not when he knew he was going to have to do it again after a couple of hours in the winners’ room. Still, even if he could count on the Ducks to send one of their more sympathetic players and not someone like Perry, it would be bad form to show up late. 

Getzlaf was already there when he arrived, and Gabe was relieved. He’d expected it to be Silfverberg, as first star, but then again, it hadn’t been Rakell or Lindholm the previous times. Other Swedes were often the worst. The Sedins hadn’t certainly seen any reason to show their fellow countryman any especial leniency last week. He’d been grateful that Nate had been selected for the All Star weekend, giving him the time to recover. 

“You again, Landeskog?” Getzlaf asked. “Doesn’t anyone else ever volunteer?” 

Gabe tensed his jaw. He didn’t know what Kesler had told Getzlaf after last time but he couldn’t let the insinuation pass that his team-mates had let him down. “I’m the Captain. It’s my responsibility.” 

Getzlaf looked dubious. “You’re not helping them if you’re playing hurt.” 

Gabe could feel his face heat but he had a job to do here. Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and dropped his pants. 

Getzlaf hissed at the sight and Gabe froze. Even after the break, there were still livid bruises on his wrists and hips, places it was obvious weren’t damage from the game, and fading bite marks over his chest and thighs. It wasn’t common for the winner to reject the losing team’s offering but it was technically allowed and if Getzlaf didn’t want him... 

Gabe ran his mind quickly over who had been left in the locker room but he couldn’t bear the thought of sending any of them in his stead. He dropped to his knees. “Please, I don’t care what you do, just let me..” 

“For Christ’s sake, Landy,” Getzlaf said, reaching out to grab Gabe’s forearm and pull him back up. “How much of a jerk do you think I am?” 

Gabe let himself be guided onto the bed, not even trying to resist. He waited for Getzlaf to touch him. Maybe, if the other captain really was as sympathetic as he sounded, he would be satisfied with something other than penetration. Gabe tried to relax, to angle his body so he looked appealling, but even so he still flinched when he felt Getzlaf’s hands on him. 

“Honestly, you’ve been on my end of this too, Landeskog,” Getzlaf said sharply. “What do you do to your prizes that has you so scared of having it done in return?” 

That wasn’t fair. Gabe cast his mind back to the last time he’d been in the winners’ room on the victorious side. It had been a while. Their last win, at home against the Islanders. Nate had scored the game winner in overtime and Gabe had let him take the reward. And before than it had been Nate again in Chicago, the week before Christmas. He shook his head. “I usually let someone else go.” 

Getzlaf sighed heavily, and his hand slid down Gabe’s arm. Gabe waited but, when nothing more happened, he risked a glance up at Getzlaf’s face only to find he wasn’t even looking at Gabe. Gabe thought he should feel relieved but he knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe Getzlaf was changing his plans now he’d seen what he had to work with, or maybe just imagining someone he’d rather be here. 

Gabe gritted his teeth. He knew how this worked; he had to make them want him, that was the only power he had in this room. Those who were accustomed to winning, the league leaders, were easily distracted, but the teams that didn’t win often, they liked to take their time with their prize, unless he could be sufficiently appealing. 

The Ducks probably fell into the first category, but Gabe’s usual methods didn’t seem to be working on Getzlaf and he was tired of it. Tired of watching his team falling apart on the ice and being unable to fix it and then having to come and perform again for whichever captain or goalie had been lucky enough to play against them that night. And if Getzlaf wasn’t going to push then, for once, Gabe was going to wait. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The mattress shifted as Getzlaf lay down beside him but still he didn’t do anything. Gabe could feel the heat of his body not quite touching and he couldn’t relax. “Can we just get this over with, please?” he asked, his throat tight with anxiety. 

Getzlaf shifted his weight again and Gabe could tell from the changing light that he must be at least partially leaning over him. Gabe wanted to keep his eyes closed but he knew that was rude and he didn’t actually want to antagonise the other captain. He looked up to find Getzlaf staring down at him, leaning up on one arm and the other hovering over Gabe as though he wasn’t sure where to touch first. 

Gabe didn’t speak, he didn’t know what he would say anyway, but Getzlaf clearly saw enough in his expression that he went ahead and let his fingers trail across Gabe’s collarbone, close enough to his throat to make him feel vulnerable but not overtly sexual. It still made Gabe’s breath catch in his throat. 

Getzlaf pulled back a little. “Breathe, Landy. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Gabe wanted to say that it wasn’t pain that bothered him but that would mean admitting what did. It wasn’t the sex either, though he wouldn’t choose it. Every winner’s room was a reminder of what a failure he was as captain, how he was letting down his team. He knew the intention was to allow a space for teams to work out any issues so they could let the game go but, when he was back in the same rooms time and time again, the weight on his shoulders only grew. 

He found his eyes burning with unshed tears, his chest tight as he fought to keep his composure. There were only two months of the season left but that was still more than 30 games remaining and, if the first half of the season was anything to go by, they would probably lose at least two thirds of them. Gabe wasn’t sure he could bear doing this another 20 times. 

Getzlaf’s hands were gentle as they ran across his chest, down his arms and back up to grip his shoulders. “Look at me, Gabriel.” 

Gabe didn’t want to but he couldn’t help meeting his gaze. He expected to see lust there, or maybe pity, but instead he only saw understanding. 

“I need you to listen to me,” Getzlaf said. “It isn’t your job to martyr yourself for your team.” 

“But I have to set an example,” Gabe protested. He knew there were others who would have taken on the winners’ room duties but it was his responsibility. If he had failed to lead them to a win, at least he could do this for them. 

“Is trying to battle through individually the example you really want to set?” Getzlaf asked. 

His words struck Gabe like a blow. Had he been so focused on protecting the team that he’d forgotten to be part of it? The press always talked about how he should be stepping up, putting the team on his back, and he’d tried so hard but it hadn’t worked. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Getzlaf continued. “It isn’t your fault how badly your season is going. Whatever anyone says, no one person can carry a team to success. Maybe for a game or two, but not all the time.” 

“Okay.” Gabe resolved that starting tomorrow he was going to talk to the team. Maybe they couldn’t turn the season around, but he would do his best to make them stronger. And perhaps that started with letting them take some of this weight off him. Which still left the problem of this evening. “So, what now? What do you want to do?” 

“Will you trust me?” Getzlaf asked. When Gabe flinched, he added, “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want. That’s not what the winner’s room is about.” 

“You should tell other teams that.” Gabe couldn’t help sounding bitter. It didn’t happen often, most guys were happy to take whatever they got offered, but there had been a couple of times guys had made it clear they didn’t care whether he wanted. 

“I have done,” Getzlaf shrugged. “But I can’t make them listen. Look, if you really can’t, we can just talk until the time is up. But can you give it a go for me?” 

Gabe wasn’t sure what Getzlaf was going to do but he thought he owed him for his understanding to at least try to bear whatever it is. 

“Roll onto your front?” Getzlaf asked. 

It took Gabe a few moments to work himself up to it but he managed in the end. He hated not being able to see what they were going to do to him. Even though he didn’t think Getzlaf was going to try anything he wouldn’t like, not after that inspirational speech, it was hard not to expect pain, or at least something unpleasant, when he’d been in this same position so many times. Gabe tried not to tense in anticipation but, even so, he couldn’t help jumping a little when Getzlaf’s hands made contact. 

“Try to relax for me.” Getzlaf’s words didn’t help much but when the other captain only stroked his back, Gabe slowly unwound. “You’re a good player,” Getzlaf told him. “A good captain.” 

From anyone else, Gabe would have either suspected an ulterior motive or else assumed they didn’t mean it. But he found he trusted the other captain to be honest with him. “What are you even getting out of this?” Gabe asked. 

“Well, I’m getting to run my hands all over a very attractive man,” Getzlaf said. “Seriously Landy, this isn’t a hardship for me.” 

Gabe still expected Getzlaf to stop after a couple of minutes, when he realised just how badly knotted Gabe’s muscles were, but he just kept going. It wasn’t a professional massage but somehow Gabe found the tension flowing out of him as none of the trainers had been able to with their best efforts. He felt vulnerable, like Getzlaf had seen through all his defences, but somehow still safe. 

When Getzlaf finally moved away, Gabe almost missed his touch. Not only physically relaxed but more emotionally at ease, Gabe found he wanted to reciprocate. “Won’t you let me do something for you?” he offered. 

Getzlaf shook his head. “I already told you, you don’t need to do that.” 

“I want to, honestly.” And Gabe did mean it. His head felt clearer than when he’d come in, reminded that he could find pleasure in his body and in the touch of others. He hadn’t hooked up outside the winners’ room since their first losing streak, and even the guys who weren’t assholes had never spent a thought on his enjoyment. 

Getzlaf gave him a long look and Gabe sat up, meeting his gaze. It was apparently enough to convince the other captain of his sincerity. “If you’re sure…” 

Gabe smiled and it was genuine. “I don’t like to brag, but I’m told I’m pretty good at this.” 

Getzlaf laughed. “Ah, there’s the Landy that I remember.” 

Getzlaf pulled his shorts down, revealing a thick cock, uncut unlike so many of the Americans. Gabe didn’t want to kneel so they arranged Getzlaf sitting up against the headboard while Gabe lay on his side, pressed against his thick thigh. He jacked Getzlaf’s cock a few times then leant over and took him into his mouth. 

The noise Getzlaf made when his cock hit the back of Gabe’s throat was satisfying - he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at it - and it was good to get to go at his own pace for once. Gabe took his time, alternating between long licks up the shaft and sucking him deep. Gabe knew how he looked like this, and Getzlaf certainly didn’t seem any less affected than any of the guys he’d picked up before the team had fallen apart. 

Getzlaf was considerate too, not pulling too hard on Gabe’s hair, or thrusting deeper than he was prepared to take. Instead he swore a lot; a steady streak of obscenity at how good Gabe’s mouth was, and how much he wanted it. 

He even warned him before he came. Gabe was pretty well accustomed to the taste of cum by this point in the season but he appreciated being given the choice. The worst guys were the ones who wanted to come on his face and then expected him to be happy about it. 

“Are you good?” Getzlaf asked. 

Gabe thought for a moment before replying. “Yeah, I think I am.” 

“I meant do you want a hand,” Getzlaf said with a laugh and Gabe had to laugh with him. 

He _was_ hard, not desperate but he hadn’t come to expect anything out of the winner’s room encounters. “Go ahead,” he said, swapping places with Getzlaf to sit up against the headboard. 

Getzlaf took a handful of lube from the pump bottle beside the bed and wrapped his fingers across Gabe’s cock. His grip was practiced, not too tight but enough that it wouldn’t take him long. It was good to be touched with the object being his pleasure - with the amount of time Gabe had spent on the wrong side of the winner’s room this season, he’d rarely felt like hooking up. 

Getzlaf had been in the league for over a decade, and he’d worn a letter for the Ducks for more than half that time, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he knew what he was doing. Still, Gabe appreciated the benefit of that experience. 

Gabe closed his eyes, sinking into the sensation. He didn’t-couldn’t-last and with a final twist of Getzlaf’s wrist, Gabe came, spilling over Getzlaf’s hand with a groan of something like relief. All the adrenaline of the game, all the anxiety of the room flooded out of him and suddenly Gabe was exhausted. He lay still with his eyes shut; like this, he could almost pretend they were somewhere nicer than the winner’s room at the arena. 

The bed creaked as Getzlaf got up and Gabe heard water running but he wasn’t in a hurry to move. Usually he wanted to be out of the room as soon as he could. Some players liked to keep you there to the very end of the time limit but most were happy to let him leave as soon as the required hour ran out. 

This felt different and he wasn’t sure how to behave now. It wasn’t usually this, well, intimate. Gabe finally levered himself up into a sitting position as Getzlaf came back, drying off his hands on a towel in Ducks’ orange. 

“Bathroom’s free,” Getzlaf told him. 

“Thanks.” Gabe grabbed his clothes and ducked into the small room. He debated taking another shower but he didn’t feel the need to scrub himself clean this time and he found he was a little afraid the other captain would be gone by the time he was done if he lingered too long. Instead he hurried through his cursory clean-up and was relieved to find Getzlaf was sat on the edge of the stripped bed. 

Getzlaf held his phone out as soon as he saw Gabe. “Give me your number?” he asked. 

“Why?” Gabe said, even as he took the phone. They didn’t have anything in common beyond both being captains - they weren’t even going to play each other again until next season, since there was no way the Avs were making the playoffs. 

“I thought you might need a friendly ear when all the pressure gets to be too much. Someone who’s been there before?” Getzlaf said. 

That felt like a big deal. “You don’t need to do that,” Gabe said, even as he hoped Getzlaf wouldn’t change his mind. 

Getzlaf shrugged. “Doan did it for me when I came into the league. I’m just passing the good deed on.” 

Gabe knew that he would take that advice to heart as well. Their losing streak couldn’t last forever. One day he might be the experienced captain, and there would be some young guy struggling under the burden of his own expectations as much as he was now. “I’d like that.” It felt like a weight off his chest. 

He left the winners’ room feeling a lot more hopeful than he’d entered. Maybe it was too late for their season, but Gabe felt he could finally see light at the end of the tunnel. 


End file.
